


Snapshots

by duckcrab



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:16:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckcrab/pseuds/duckcrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Snapshots<br/>Fandom: Inception<br/>Summary: Snapshots of Ariadne and Arthur's life together.<br/>Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur<br/>Rating: R<br/>Notes: <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/">inception_kink</a> <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/4946.html?thread=6017618#t6017618">prompt</a>: Five Snapshots in their life together [marriage, first baby, etc]. (But it's actually just four)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots

 

“I love you,” he says, lips brushing across the apple of her cheek.

“I certainly hope so,” she says, “considering you’ve just married me. How did you talk me into that anyway?”

“Oh, I’m very charming.”

“Is that so? I honestly don’t see it.”

He gives her a retaliatory pinch on the rear.

“Arthur,” she blushes. “Everyone is looking at us.”

His breath is warm against her ear when he says, “Let them look.”

 

 

Together they dream. Warm oceans one moment, snow laden pines the next. Hand in hand they walk through groves of trees bursting with the crisp colors of autumn.

His name is a quietly spoken prayer when he eases into her, presses her hard against the trunk of an oak. There is no sharp sting of bark biting into her skin, only the steady movement of his hips against hers, his thumb _just there_ on her inner thigh.

 _Are you meticulous in all aspects of your life_ , she asked him once during another job when all that was between them was an imaginary kiss, one that she tasted less and less every day. He hadn’t answered her then, but she had come to learn that yes ( _yes, oh God yes_ ) he was.

His fingers slip inside of her, and she is full up with him, consumed. Up above her head she has watched the leaves change gradually from green to yellow. When she comes, the tree shudders with her, and the leaves shake until each one has turned a bright red.

Later, they will stand together and toe pebbles off of cliffs that drop down and never find ground. He will turn to her and say, “I love you”, and she will smile, squeeze his hand a little tighter.

He will say, “I love you.” She will smile. Together they will jump.

 

 

Eames shows up battered and bloody on their doorstep one night. He doesn’t tell them what happened, and they find that it is probably better that they don’t ask.

“Look at you,” he says, fingers spreading out over Ariadne’s pregnant belly as she applies antiseptic to the split skin of his eyebrow.

“I know,” she says, smiling at him and shaking her head.

When he is all patched up she kisses the corner of his eye, whispers in his ear, “Be careful.”

He thinks that they should name the baby Adelaide.

“To keep the alliteration going,” he tells them, but after a few drinks he will take Arthur aside and admit that it is his mother’s name. He will turn away before Arthur can confirm that his eyes were wet as he said it.

 

 

“A year,” Arthur says in a whisper. Perfectly content, the baby has just fallen asleep between the two of them, her tiny chest rising and falling while she dreams the sweet, milk filled dreams of babies.

“You’ll help her with math,” Ariadne says, her hand on the little girl’s warm stomach in a way that makes him think of gypsies and crystal balls. “I’ll help her with art projects.”

“Refrigerator doors covered in macaroni labyrinths.”

“Exactly.”

“And we’ll have a dog.”

“Two,” she says.

There is a beat before he asks, “Why two?” and all Ariadne can do is smile.  



End file.
